


I've got blood in my eyes for you, baby

by foxesnotopossums



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Antihero au, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mutant Powers, Shameless Big Bang, mentions of past non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:10:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7238614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxesnotopossums/pseuds/foxesnotopossums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to my beta reader Lacy and my artist and mod Tanya! <br/>Both of you have been such great helpers.</p>
<p>This is for round six (?) of the Shameless big bang and I'm very excited for all of you to read it!</p>
    </blockquote>





	I've got blood in my eyes for you, baby

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta reader Lacy and my artist and mod Tanya!   
> Both of you have been such great helpers.
> 
> This is for round six (?) of the Shameless big bang and I'm very excited for all of you to read it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art is here http://ghostofgallavich.tumblr.com/post/146123826687

Part i.

Chicago Institute of Science, 1978

Dr. Johnson nodded politely to the men entering the conference room, but only out of social obligation. If he had a choice he would be ignoring their presence, and if it weren't impossible to explain his experimentation on a document, he sure as hell would not be at this meeting whatsoever. Government officials made him squirm and sweat, with their high and mighty sneers and ulterior motives.

A hand rested on his shoulder, but due to his inattention to his surroundings, Dr. Johnson had been caught off guard. The man before him introduced himself as General Crowley and shook his hand firmly, if not on the side of a bit too enthusiastic. Johnson stuttered out some pleasantries before excusing himself to start the presentation, which earned him a hard clap on the back and a 'that a boy'.

Once he stood before the politicians, billionaires, and the other various investors, he cleared his throat and adjusted his wire-framed glasses self-consciously.

"I know you have all been awaiting the news of my- our- little venture into the field of bioengineering, and I can tell you now, the results are beyond what any of you could have dreamed," Johnson took a deep breath to get him through the ordeal, "Genetic modification and mutation is not a novel practice. Living organisms have been mutating since the day they came into being, our bodies are adapting to our surroundings, which is why a person from Africa is typically dark in skin tone as opposed to a person from Norway who has fair skin and blonde hair. Each and every one of you is a mutant, as roughly sixty base pairs in your DNA are mutated.

Up until now we haven't been able to control those mutations on the nitrogenous base level, if you'll excuse my pun. We could only influence an organism's surroundings and hope it changed its epigenetic memory, simply training an organism's gene expression. Now, we can genetically modify our own species to have extraordinary abilities."

"Finally something we can understand instead out of all that scientific mumbo jumbo!" The general smirked around a cigar that he definitely wasn't allowed to be smoking in here.

"Yes, sorry about that, I get a little carried away," Johnson flushed in embarrassment but continued on anyways, "But before we launch this project I would like you all to take time and thoroughly consider the ethics of this experiment. Who are we to change a living, breathing human's DNA so that we can have superheroes, or if this got into the wrong hands, super villains?"

"Are you implying that you do not want to create a real Superman?" one of the men spoke up;  
Johnson thought he might have recognized him as a business mogul.

"Actually this would be more along the lines of Captain America-" The man waved his hand dismissively to show he couldn't care less. "No sir, not if it could possibly lead to the problems this project could."

"Which are what?" The General snorted haughtily. "Ugly looking people? Fame and fortune?  
Hope for Americans?"

"A weapon of mass destruction that looks and acts just like you and me, to start," Johnson's blood began to boil at the arrogance and greed the men in front of him were exuding. "The start of a dystopian society where mutants are held as slaves or pets, drastic health side effects or physical defects that could cause mutants to be victims of hate crimes and bioterrorism, natural selection."

"Oh boo hoo, natural selection already exists," another man said. "We're all still here."

"That's because there hasn't been genetic competition to the level we're talking about here.  
We're talking you and your children and your children's children dying out because you are less equipped to survive in the world than those of us with accelerated mutations," Johnson pauses to look each and every person in the eyes. "Then this becomes a treatment, and when a medical advancement comes around, someone puts a price tag on it and makes a fortune. Is it discrimination to only provide this to people who are extremely wealthy and just let those of us who don't have that extra million dollars to spend die out?"

"Like you said, it's natural selection."

"Nothing about this is natural!" Dr. Johnson shouted. The shock on their faces was evident, so he tried to calm himself and adjusted his glasses yet again. "Why on Earth would we try and play God like this?"

"Because we can." The final answer came from his main investor, the CEO of the world's largest innovation enterprises. "I'm not giving you a choice anymore. You are going to carry out the human testing and I will personally fund it. If you don't I will see to it that you and everyone you love are destroyed."

It was not worth it to risk the lives of everyone he loved. “Alright,” Dr. Johnson said. He just hoped that this project would not affect the lives of people years from now like he predicted it could

 

Ian giggled and stumbled over his puppy feet that were still on the side of being too big for his eight-year-old body as he ran from his older brother. Lip might've been older and smarter, but  
Ian was always faster and stronger. That much was evident as his feet pounded against the pavement along with the thud thud thud of his heartbeat.

"Catch me if you can!" Ian turned to shout but was shocked to find himself alone. He swore Lip was there two seconds ago. His chest heaved from the exertion and panic he was feeling catch up to him. He shouted his brother's name but there was no reply.

Man, Fiona was going to kill them. With their new baby sister, and mom splitting and all, she was pretty swamped. Ian started feeling guilty and scared, and next thing he knew tears were pricking at his eyes. He sat down on a swing and rubbed furiously at his eyes.

"Hey dummy, get off my swing!" a high voice demanded from across the playground. The sound of crunching bark came closer and closer until a pair of torn up sneakers came into his line of sight. At least they were small; whoever owned this swing was probably his age. "You deaf? Get the fuck off the swing!"

"No!" Ian shouted, he wanted to be tough and fight the stranger, but his voice shook and his lip quivered.

"Are you crying?" The boy laughed. He looked so dirty. His black hair was greasy and spiked up in all directions; his skin was so coated in dirt he looked like the kid from Charlie Brown. The only part of him that was clean were his eyes, which were a bright, clear blue. Ian had never seen eyes that blue, not even on his siblings.

"No," Ian sniffed and wiped at his face again like it would make his tears go away. The other boy rolled his eyes but gave up his fight for the swing, sitting in the one next to Ian instead. Ian snickered a little at the fact that his legs swung way more than Ian's, but he shut up pretty quickly when the boy glared at him. "My name is Ian Gallagher."

"Mickey," Mickey forwent any last name at first, but Ian realized that he was just pausing for dramatic effect, "Milkovich. Why you crying like a baby?"

"I lost my brother." Ian's throat started closing up again, and then he realized something else, "I don't know how to get home from here!"

"Hah! My house is right across the street from yours," Mickey smirked.

"Can I follow you back?" Ian asked hopefully. He got the impression from Mickey that one wrong move could lead to a black eye or worse.

"My pops says your family is bad," Mickey said uncertainly, jutting his bottom lip out in an act of defiance.

"Are not!" Ian shouted. "My family is great!"

"He says your mom is a crazy bitch," Mickey continued. "And my pops is always right."

Ian was quickly losing his cool, but the other boy was oblivious to his change in demeanor.  
Good, Ian could use this to his advantage and do a surprise attack. With a roar, the smaller boy charged Mickey, catching him around the stomach and pulling him to the ground.

For a moment, he had the upper hand and was even able to get a couple hits in; Mickey's skin bruised and broke under Ian's tiny fists.

All of a sudden, the two were flipped and Ian felt himself being punched hard. Pain exploded behind his right eye. Thankfully his attacker relented and lifted his body off of the redhead's.

Ian cracked open his left eye to see where the older boy went. He found Mickey standing over him, a smug look on his face and an outstretched hand to help him up. Like Ian was going to fall for that. He rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up on his arms before standing.

Mickey scoffed behind him, his arms crossed over his chest in a very fuck the police fashion.

"I don't think I want to show you the way home now," Mickey said, acting nonchalant, but Ian called his bluff.

"I've got popsicles at my house and Fiona won't mind if one goes missing," Ian grinned at the dirty boy. "But it's your choice."

"I like your style Gallagher," Mickey said approvingly as they started back towards their street, minds on popsicles and new friends instead of lost brothers and bruised cheeks.

After that first encounter the two boys were nearly inseparable. Mickey and Ian were officially best friends (in Ian's eyes anyways) and that meant they did everything together. If one of them was showering, the other would sit by the door and shout insults at them until the other would barrel soapy and wet from the bathroom to tackle them to the floor. If one was sick, the other would skip school to stay home and play video games with them. And if there was a family dinner, usually at the Gallagher’s, Mickey was always present -showered, a rule Fiona put in place soon after the two became friends- and ready to help.

Things were great for the two of them; Monica had been gone for a few months so far, but Ian was getting used to it as he got older. Mickey's mom was clean and happy, which meant the household was happy too.

Ian liked Mickey's mom. She had soft black hair and she smelled like old perfume -the good kind- and fresh flowers. Ian didn't quite understand how she smelled like that, the Milkoviches didn't have any flowers or even grass in their yard, and the inside of the house was just as dead.

When she was clean she would make homemade Ukrainian food and the living room was always clear of the drugs, beer cans, and guns that usually littered the table and floors. Plus, she made the best cookies ever and she made them especially for when Ian slept over.

The bad part of going to Mickey's house was his dad. Sure, Frank wasn't a great dad and most of the time he was pretty drunk, but he was no Terry Milkovich. Terry struck fear into the hearts of everyone who dared question him. It was well known in Canaryville that Terry was a mutant, much like Ian's mother, but Terry had inhuman strength. He could crush a man's bones with his bare hand and punch holes through steel plates. And Terry had a temper. If he had to ask someone to do something more than once, it was not good news for that person; this extended to his wife and children as well. His wife often had bruises along her arms and neck from his anger, and Mickey and his brothers had nearly permanent hand prints on their faces.

The only one Terry didn't hit was the youngest Milkovich, Mandy. Mandy was a pretty little princess who looked just like her mother and Mickey, with soft black hair and big blue eyes and that pale skin that rivaled the purity of snow. Mandy was cute to Ian, she was a few months younger than him but just as smart, if not smarter. She was funny and nice, and so pretty Ian thought he might love her, but only because boys were supposed to fall in love with their friends' little sisters and all that dumb fairytale stuff.

If Ian could pick, he would fall in love with Mickey because Mickey was tough and smart, and really pretty too. Ian wasn't allowed to fall in love with Mickey and he knew that very well.  
Mickey's dad was always grumbling to himself about how fags and queers weren't right, and Ian knew that only fags loved other boys.

So he'd just settle for loving Mandy. Ian was more than okay with that, he just hoped that Mickey didn't fall in love with his little sister Debbie, because that would be weird and gross.

Ian is 12 and Mickey is 13

Mickey squinted as he lobbed the millionth ball of paper at the wall. It bounced off the doorframe and missed the trash by an inch. He swore and nudged Ian with his foot. Ian just looked at him and Mickey raised his eyebrows at the paper.

"Oh that's cute," Ian rolled his eyes at his friend. "You think I'll pick up after you like a bitch.  
You're such a lazy ass."

Mickey nudged him harder this time, and Ian smacked him. They started to roughhouse on the twin bed, Ian's longer legs getting tangled up and making the two fall to the floor. Mickey cursed  
when the corner of Ian's nightstand hit him sharply under his shoulder blade, but he didn't let go of the squirming redhead.

"Hey!" Fiona snapped as she rushed in like usual, in a hurry to get somewhere, pulling on items of clothing as she moved. "No fighting in the house!"

"Yes ma'am," Mickey said. Ian snickered and mocked him.

"Look who's the bitch now," Ian mocked under his breath but Mickey heard him and flicked his throat causing him to choke.

"Still you, Gallagher," Mickey grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

"You two, I swear to god," Fiona sighed before fixing them both with her take no shit face. "I mean it. No fighting in the house."

Before she left the room entirely, her foot scuffed the crumpled paper, and she turned to point at her brother.

"And Ian, for the love of God," she said, pointing at the paper, "pick that up."

"Yeah Ian, pick it up." Mickey grinned from ear to ear and Ian wanted nothing more than to tape his mouth shut.

"You're such a child Mickey." Ian rubbed his jaw angrily. He got up and dramatically threw away the scrap despite his protests.

"Says the twelve year old," Mickey snickered. Ian tackled him to the floor again and they wrestled for a while before Mickey was able to pin the gangly redhead down.

His knees were pinning the boy's thighs and his hands held the pale arms high above his head so all Ian could do was buck his hips up to try and dismount the older boy. Mickey grinned wickedly as the boy got nowhere with his desperate attempts. Ian growled and bared his teeth at the older boy in an attempt to frighten him off. The attempt was futile, but Mickey let up eventually, obviously appreciating the full company of his friend, and less skin to skin contact in the summer heat.

Ian's eyes quickly snapped down to his own lap where the heat he thought was from his best friend's fat ass lingered a little too long. Shit. He was popping a boner, and over his best friend no less. He grabbed a pillow from the bed quickly to cover his situation and if Mickey noticed, he didn't say anything.

"It's hot as balls," Mickey groaned, but it was more of a whine to Ian. "You wanna go swimming?"

"Yes!" Ian shouted a little two enthusiastically, but Mickey passed it off as the extreme heat and lack of air conditioning at the Gallagher house. They really should get that fixed.

They stripped off their shirts, which was not helping Ian's problem whatsoever, but as they raced down the stairs he made sure to stay behind his friend in hopes of keeping his half-chub hidden.

Thankfully, it went unnoticed and Ian was able to jump into the semi-cool water without drawing too much attention to his preteen crotch.

This was going to be one long summer.

Ian is 15 Mickey is 16

Ian fidgeted as Mandy's hand worked its way up his thigh. Don't get Ian wrong, he loved Mandy with his whole heart, just not like that. He scooted a few inches away, but Mandy followed him.

She probably thought he was just trying to protect Carl's innocence.

Fat chance of that.

When Mandy's fingers danced around his belt buckle, Ian lost it. His legs flailed as he struggled to get off the couch.

"I'm- I'm going to get some more pop," Ian said breathlessly. "Want more pop Mandy? Carl?"

Both shook their heads and gave him matching looks of confusion. Grabbing his half-empty can of RC Cola, Ian rushed to the kitchen to get a hold of himself. Short, panicked breaths puffed from his lungs and he tried to stem the panic in his chest. Mandy was trying to have sex with him. Him, the gayest goddamned Gallagher.

In the living room, Mandy kicked at Carl's shoulder until the brat stomped out. She was not going to have her chances with Ian fucking Gallagher, whom she'd been in love with for like ever, washed down the drain because of some prepubescent psychopath.

Carl grumbled his protests, but headed upstairs anyways. He passed a nervous looking Ian on his way towards the back stairs and made sure to tease him about catching herpes or something from Mandy Skankovich.

Ian was screwed. His only excuse for not fucking Mandy was now gone and she was lounging on the couch looking as seductive as a Southside fifteen-year-old girl could. He managed a weak smile as he sat cautiously on the far side of the sofa.

Mandy was not having it; she scooted right up beside him and blinked at him from under her clumpy black eyelashes. Ian stared straight ahead at the TV in an attempt to ignore her advances. That just wasn't doing it for Mandy, and she needed to find a way to step up her game. Ian was so cute and shy, he obviously had never been with a girl and was clearly nervous.

She would just have to help him out a little.

To Ian's horror and shock, Mandy straddled his thighs and kissed his lips. This was all wrong,  
Ian thought. Her lip gloss was sticky and sweet, it made him want to vomit. His body was hyperaware of her breasts brushing his chest, and her smooth, thin hands resting on his face were enough to make him pull away.

"Mandy, I-" Ian sputtered. Mandy pressed a finger to his lips and made a shhing noise at him.

"Don't worry," she grinned, pulling a neon green condom out of her bra, which her breasts were spilling out of. "I've got one."

Without further ado she moved down his body and unbuckled his jeans. Mandy was excited to try out this new thing her friend had told her about. She was going to unroll the condom with her mouth on his-

"Mandy! Stop it!" Ian shouted, falling over the arm of the couch in his struggle to get away from her.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Ian?" Mandy shrieked in anger. No one, boy or man ever rejected her. It just wasn't a plausible situation. There had to be something wrong with Ian. It wasn't normal not to want Mandy. She had so graciously done everything to make this easy on him, and he fucking rejected her.

"Mandy," Ian said, his eyes were sad and scared, and his chest heaved under his t-shirt, "I think you should leave. Please."

Without a word, she ran from the house, arms wrapped tight around her chest and tears streaming down her cheeks. Ian didn't want her.

To make things worse, his older sister Fiona was standing on the porch with a fucking cop. For a moment she cursed herself for not being ready to fight or deny any accusations until she saw the way the two were standing. He obviously hadn't rejected Fiona.

"Mandy?" Fiona called after her but she didn't look back, just stormed across the street to her own house. She heard Fiona yell, "Who did what to Mandy Milkovich?" 

Ian Gallagher was going to pay for how he treated her.

 

\-------------////////------------///////----------/////////-------///////-------------/:///////

 

Ian Gallagher was a fucking dead man.

He had fucked with the wrong girl and now he had to pay. The only problem was he was nowhere to be found. Mickey and his brothers searched the scummy Southside alleys and streets for the perv for days now, and the fucker was still MIA. They'd had a run-in with his genius brother Lip and it felt pretty good to give him a beat-down, even if he wasn't the Gallagher who had hurt their sister.

So here they stood, outside the Kash and Grab for the third time this week. Mickey hated this, wasting valuable time they could use scamming and dealing to make some cash, but his tatted knuckles were itching to collide with Gallagher's freckled mug. When the towelhead owner came out and locked the door, Mickey knew something was up. Gallagher definitely hadn't left the store all day as far as he could tell.

Every night he and his brothers would stand in their yard and stare across the street at the  
Gallagher house. Ian's room faced the street and every night a light would be on, but the only faces they would see were Lip's ugly mug and the little psychopath Carl's terrifying smirk.

Mickey hoped for the sake of humanity that that kid never grew into any spectacular mutations.

With the Gallagher gene pool, however, humanity's chances were looking pretty bleak.

For yet another night, Mickey and his brothers gave up the hunt for more entertaining activities, like dropping acid or jerking off to a porno some fake blonde with fake tits. Mickey stayed up and stared out his window, mentally berating Ian for being such a pussy, and himself for being such a dumbass around his little sister. Mandy definitely didn't need his protection, but it wasn't terrible for Mickey to watch out for her now and then. And he'd let his best friend rape his sister.

Some kind of friend Gallagher was.

The next week however, Mandy gathered her brothers and told them to stop looking for Ian. He was her boyfriend now. Mickey scoffed and rolled his eyes. Now Gallagher was not only a piece of shit, but he was a piece of shit dating his little sister.

He expected things to be weird after the abrupt break in their friendship, but falling back in was easy when it came to Ian. At first he acted skittish, but he warmed up again very quickly and soon enough he was laughing and joking with the redhead like nothing had ever happened.

The thought of Gallagher forcing himself on his sister plagued him every night, however. But the more he saw the two lovebirds cuddling and smiling, the less he pictured it as forced and for some reason that bothered him even more. Just thinking about Ian and Mandy kissing each other made his stomach curl. That wasn't even if he thought about them having sex, which he didn't doubt from all the alone time they spent giggling in Mandy's room.

He confronted Ian about the whole situation a few weeks into their rekindled friendship while they were playing Halo.

"So did you really try to rape Mandy?" Mickey asked gruffly. He wasn't going to show Ian that this got to him at all. No way in hell would he expose his vulnerability like that.

"Nah," Ian croaked after a moment of silence. "It was a misunderstanding. I pushed her off at first because I was feeling all queasy from dinner but she thought I wasn't interested. We worked it out."

"So you guys have banged?" Mickey asked awkwardly. Ian's cheeks went bright red the way they always did when he was caught off guard.

"Yeah," Ian wouldn't look Mickey in the eye, and for some reason that made everything worse.  
The rest of the day went by without any more talk of best friends fucking sisters, and the topic was dropped for the remainder of forever, Ian hoped.

Mickey was still a little annoyed with Ian and Mandy for being all over each other, all the time. At least they didn't make out in the living room or anything, it was just annoying to see his sister on top of Ian. He convinced himself that it was just concern for his sister's well-being and nothing more. He definitely wasn't jealous that he was getting less attention from the redhead at all.

Ian is 16 and Mickey is 17

Ian had made up his mind. He was going to tell Mickey he was gay.

Or that's what he told himself for the third time that week as he paced his room, cell phone in one hand and a fistful of his hair in the other. He weighed all of the pros and cons a million times. If it went well, Mickey wouldn't give a shit. If it went really well, Mickey would go down on him, but Ian wasn't counting on that outcome. If it went bad, Ian could end up dead.

He just couldn't keep pretending he was straight and in love with Mandy anymore, though.  
Mandy deserved better, and Ian felt like a piece of shit for lying to his best friend. They told each other everything for the past seven years, why was it so hard to tell him this?

Oh right, because his dad was the biggest fag-basher in Chicago.

Ian shook his head and grabbed his phone, sending a text to Mickey telling him to meet him at their spot in ten. He grabbed his shoes and took a deep breath before starting off for the building himself.

His phone buzzed, Mickey saying he had something to tell him as well, and Ian had to try not to get his hopes up too high.

By the time Mickey walked up to the abandoned building, Ian had already worked up quite a sweat. Both boys stood awkwardly in front of each other, skirting the subject of why they were here in the first place.

"You go first," Ian said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen.

"I have powers." Ian's heart nearly stopped. That was not what he had expected or wanted to hear at all.

"What kind?" he asked, against his own desire.

"I can crush stuff, like my dad," Mickey answered, and Ian swallowed thickly, "and I'm like a brick wall."

"Wow." It was all that Ian could come up with and he wanted to hit himself for it. He should have been excited for his best friend, but all he could feel was fear at the thought of having his trachea crushed in a few moments.

"Watch this." Mickey grinned wickedly and punched the wall so hard that Ian flinched at the sight. The concrete crumbled beneath his fist, and when he pulled it away, there was not a drop of blood or a single scrape across his knuckles.

Mickey turned back to Ian with a wide smile plastered on his face.

"Punch me in the face." Mickey smirked at the redhead's dumbfounded expression. "C'mon tough guy, hit me with your best shot."

"No." Ian shook his head gently; he was going to be sick, he could just feel the bile rising in his throat. "I uh- I think I need to get home."

"Hey man, you okay?" Mickey asked, suddenly concerned about the redhead. And for good reason, Ian was a pale shade of green at this point.

"I'm fine," Ian mumbled before breaking into a run, leaving the building as quick as he could.  
The second he rounded the corner, his hands hit his knees, and he retched all over the sidewalk.

 

\----------/////////----------///////////----------//////////////----------///////////

 

Mickey grinned the second he saw his best friend's dumb ROTC backpack under the bleachers.  
He had only come out here for a smoke alone, but Ian never really made anything worse. Actually, he usually made things better, but Mickey wouldn't dare tell him that just in case he got any ideas about their friendship.

He stopped grinning the moment he heard the labored breathing that could only come from getting a hummer. Mickey panicked over the thought of walking up on the boy getting blown by some chick, but was already close enough that he could peek and make sure. So he did just that.

And boy was he thrown for a fucking loop, because right in front of his very eyes was Ian Gallagher on his knees in those toy soldier army pants, sucking Roger Spikey's dick like a fucking lollipop.

"What the fuck?" Mickey let the words just slip through his lips in his current state of shock.  
Roger's eyes flew open in fright and Ian scrambled backward. That somehow made everything worse. Probably because the redhead's lips were swollen and his chin was shining with spit and god knows what else.

In seconds Roger was charging at Mickey, fully intending to punch him hard enough to break his nose or knock him out, but Mickey was one step ahead of him and grabbed his fist. Ian forced himself to look away, but he couldn't that didn’t stop him from hearing the sickening crunch of every bone in Roger's right hand breaking. To Roger's credit, he only whimpered a small amount before fleeing. Not without being verbally accosted by Mickey though, of course.

"Aye donkey dick, get the fuck outta here before I break every knuckle in your hand, all fifteen of 'em!"

Ian couldn't look up, couldn't meet his best friend's eyes just to watch the disgust consume his face.

"Ian," Mickey started, trying not to let his anger get the best of him. "Why didn't you fucking tell me?"

"What, that I'm a fag?" Ian laughed humorlessly. "I was going to, but then you started showing me all the different ways you could crush a man's skull and I thought, no thanks, I'd like to keep my cranium intact."

"You thought I would crush your skull over this?" Mickey couldn't believe what was coming out of his best friend's mouth. He could objectively hear the logic in what he was saying, but all that registered with him was: Ian doesn't trust me.

"What was I supposed to think Mickey?" Ian's voice rose, straining just below a shout. "Your dad and brothers have bashed people for less."

"I'm not my fucking dad, okay?!" Mickey shouted. He stalked right up to the younger boy, so their chests were nearly flush and they could feel the rapid heartbeats. "I'm not and fuck you for thinking I was."

"You just broke Roger's hand!" Ian pointed out, and Mickey wanted to punch himself in the face.

Of course Ian would mistake his anger at the jock for homophobic fag bashing.

"He's not you!" Ian stopped like a deer in headlights at the admission. "He's not my best friend, okay? He's just some dumb jock who probably took advantage of you and it made me angry."

"Mickey-" Ian had that soft ass look in his eyes again, and Mickey couldn't stand it. He especially couldn't stand it when Ian moved to hug him, so he stepped backward quickly.

"No fucking hugging," Mickey snapped. "Just 'cause I'm okay with you being a fag doesn't mean  
I'm cool with that sort of shit."

"Right," Ian cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry."

They sat on the short slab of concrete that extended beneath the bleachers. Neither boy said anything for a few minutes, Mickey opting to shake a cigarette from his pack. He lit up and basked in the feeling of the nicotine filling his lungs. Ian's freckled fingers stole the stick from his mouth while his eyes were closed and Mickey nearly hit him for it.

"Ay! I don't want your nasty dick spit all over my smoke!" Mickey griped, smacking at his best friend's sneaky hand. The redhead lifted his hand and the cigarette high above Mickey's head so he couldn't reach it and laughed when the older boy struggled to come close.

Eventually Mickey admitted defeat, grumbling his unhappiness, but not making further objections.

As they sat there smoking in silence, Mickey thought it might be okay if Ian was gay. He wasn't a fairy and he definitely wasn't a queen. (Except that he was a pretty major drama queen when he didn't get his way).

Mickey decided it didn't change anything whether or not Ian liked cock over pussy. Ian was still his best friend who could shoot a freckle with an M16 from a mile away and shotgun a beer faster than Iggy or Tony could. Ian was Ian and Mickey accepted that.

 

\---------/////////---------////////////------------//////////------------//////--------------/////

 

The weeks after Ian was forced to come out were hard on everyone. While nothing changed due to the teen's sexuality, his personality was a whole other playing field.

He looked worse for wear, Ian’s eyes a dull hazel instead of their usual green, his hair grew long and unkempt, and his skin was so pale it was nearly translucent in the sunlight. Mickey was terrified that he was going to burn the second a ray of sun touched him he was seriously considering hiring an Asian grandma to carry an umbrella around for Ian on the daily.  
Ian's behavior wasn't any better either.

He didn't sleep most nights according to Lip, and when he did, it was usually during the day around the time everyone else was waking up. He missed quite a bit of school due to his reversed sleep schedule and was failing half his classes.

Mickey had tried time after time to get him up and going like he usually did in the mornings, but  
Ian would just beg Mickey to leave him be. His eyes were so fearful whenever Mickey would try to drag him out of bed and one morning the boy had even started to cry and cling to his best friend like a lifeline.

That was the morning Mickey decided he would stop trying to force Ian to go to school.

Instead, he told the teachers that Ian had caught an awful bug and that he was completely bedridden. They seemed to believe it and gave him the work that Ian had and would miss without further questioning. None of them really gave a shit whether another Southside  
Gallagher dropped out of high school anyways.

Mickey just hoped the redhead was okay, but he had no idea because Ian wouldn’t talk to him.

 

\-----///////////----------/////////////--------/////

 

Mickey woke up at one in the morning on a Thursday to his phone buzzing aggressively in his jeans. It took him a moment to locate the noisy object, but once he did, he flipped the phone open.

"Hello?" His words were slurred with sleep and he hoped to God it wasn't some fucking kid prank calling him.

"Mick?" Ian's panicked voice crackled over the line, and Mickey's eyes were open in an instant.

"Ian? What's wrong?" Mickey asked.

"Can you come meet me at the abandoned building?" Ian pleaded with his friend. "Bring a bag, come leave town with me."

"Ian, what the fuck?" Mickey asked in confusion. "Are you high?"

"No, just please come Mickey," Ian said, "I need you with me."

The line went dead before Mickey could say anything else.

He hurried to put his shoes and jacket on and sprinted so quickly to the abandoned buildings that the Olympics probably would have recruited him if they had just so happened to be walking down the street at one am in Southside, Chicago.

When Mickey reached the building, Ian was already sitting on the ledge of the roof. He must have called him from there, because he was not out of breath and red faced like Mickey currently was.

"Ian, I-" the words caught in his throat, and the redhead looked up hopefully.

"Yeah, Mick?" All he needed were those three words. Hell, he would take a simple 'like' at this point. All he needed was something he knew he could hold onto, but Mickey wasn't giving him anything.

"Fuck," Mickey's voice cracked as he reached up to wipe his nose. He pressed his heels of his hands harshly into his eyes to keep the inevitable tears from falling in front of Ian. It didn't help that he was sniffling like a little bitch.

"Just say it Mick, and I'll stay," Ian pleaded with the man, reaching hesitantly to touch his pale cheek.

The noise from the street floated softly through the air and Mickey had to sniff. 

This was it; Ian was leaving, and Mickey could do nothing to stop him. He couldn't go with him either because someone had to take care of Mandy and his dad would murder them both if he ever found out.

"Don't," Mickey whispered. Ian scoffed at the weak attempt and backed up. "Just-"

"Goodbye Mickey," Ian smiled sadly, walking to the stairs. Before he was out of sight he said, "I'll see you soon."

Once the redhead was gone Mickey cursed and screamed until his lungs hurt and his throat was raw. He punched holes in the walls of the building and tore the remainders down.

Fuck Ian Gallagher.

 

Oh, baby, baby, it's a wild world  
It's hard to get by just upon a smile  
Oh, baby, baby, it's a wild world  
I'll always remember you like a child, girl  
You know I've seen a lot of what the world can do  
And it's breakin' my heart in two  
Because I never wanna see you a sad girl  
Don't be a bad girl  
But if you wanna leave, take good care  
I hope you make a lot of nice friends out there  
But just remember there's a lot of bad and beware  
Oh, baby, baby, it's a wild world  
It's hard to get by just upon a smile  
Oh, baby, baby, it's a wild world  
I'll always remember you like a child, girl

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be updating every few days, so hang in there. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are mucho appreciated!


End file.
